


Laugh for Me

by sworth812



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fingering, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, non-au, um there's fruit involved at one point but its not in a weird way I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sworth812/pseuds/sworth812
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it's then that he realizes just how much he's misses Harry's laugh. Not his public laugh, he hears that often enough, but his private Louis laugh, the laugh that Harry only makes when they're alone together, a laugh he's come to associate with soft touches and low moans and a breathy "Louis" whispered against his neck. Louis can't think of the last time he heard it.</p>
<p>or, Louis misses how Harry used to laugh while they had sex, and uses their week together in L.A. to bring laughter back into their sex life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laugh for Me

**Author's Note:**

> This un-beta'd and I'm sorry if there are any typos. Also, I messed up the timeline slightly in terms of the press conference and the week in L.A. This is a work of fiction, don't sue me blah blah etc. Please enjoy my little headcanon about the boys' week off that somehow grew into this 4,000+ word fic.

Louis misses Harry's laugh.

He realizes it in some interview- they all sort of blend together at this point- as he stares at the back of Harry's head while Harry parrots an answer to a question they've heard a million times. Louis's trying not to look like he's staring, because apparently he looks at Harry too much in interviews. (Fuck how does anyone even glance at Harry Styles and not stare?) But it would weird if he didn't look at him while he was talking right? Fuck. There are too many rules and Louis doesn't know how to follow them all, never mind that he hates rules in general. And it fucking sucks, because even when he allows himself to look at Harry, Louis has to extert all his brain power on trying not to grin like a fucking loon. Sometimes he gets so caught up in trying not to smile at the simple sight of Harry's mouth moving, or fuck, the way he accompanies all his stories with stupid hand gestures, that he realizes he hasn't answered a question for the better part of the interview. So then he'll interrupt whatever well thought out comment Liam or Zayn are making with some quip just so it looks like he's there, like he's present, like his brain isn't consumed with a running stream of harryharryharryharry.

So when the reporter directs her question to Harry, Louis breathes out a little sigh of relief because, yes, he can look at his boy now, but of course the second he glances at that stupid mop of curls he can feel the corners of his mouth start to twitch upwards, and it's then, as Louis's rearranging his features into his now typical half-grimace- which he thinks makes him look like a sour queen so he's not even sure why management bothers- that he realizes just how much he's misses Harry's laugh. Not his public laugh, he hears that often enough, but his private Louis laugh, the laugh that Harry only makes when they're alone together, a laugh he's come to associate with soft touches and low moans and a breathy Louis whispered against his neck. Louis can't think of the last time he heard it. And he's listening to Harry's answer now, really listening, and he can hear the tension and frustration in his voice, and he wants nothing more than to reach out and place his hands reassuringly on Harry's neck, and maybe rub and soothe his troubles away. And two years ago he would have, interview be dammed. But it's different now. So he just flexes his hands and runs them up and down his jeans. 

***

They'd always laughed together. Always. It's what they did. Louis hadn't known he could laugh like that until he met Harry. They'd laughed after their first exchange in the bathroom. They were in stitches the first time Harry grabbed Louis'd neck and connected their lips in fumbling, sloppy kisses (Later, Harry, curled around Louis in the blue darkness of their bedroom, whispered that it was the only way he could think to get Louis to stop tickling him, prompting another tickle fight which Harry ended in a much less innocent manner)

It didn't surprise Louis that their first time was all giggles muffled against skin and barks of laughter silenced by a quick shush ("Fuck, Haz, do you want to wake the whole house?" "Oh, like no one heard the noise you just made." "Shut it." "Make me."). Louis can't help but grin every time he thinks of it. Seventeen-year-old Harry spread out in front of him, naked and flushed and giggling like such a fucking idiot in that tiny X-factor bunk. (It was Liam who got the other boys to clear off for the night. Liam who'd sensed what Louis was trying to ask them through stumbling words and half-hearted innuendos. And Louis remembers thinking, he's not half bad, this one.) Louis remembers the pleasure he got watching Harry's giggles turn to gasps as Louis crooked his fingers just right. Louis remembers that even through the haze of pleasure that came from sinking into Harry for the first time, as he tried to muffle his cry of "Oh God" into Harry's neck, he realized the giggles had stopped. Pushing himself up, he looked down at the boy in front him, and realized with a jolt that Harry's face was screwed up in pain. 

"Fuck, Haz. Shit, I'm so sorry, do you want me to stop? I can stop. We can stop." 

"No, no. It's just," a long breath, "a lot." 

"Yeah, should have warned you I have a monster cock."

Harry let out a bark of laughter, and Louis smiled. So he told Harry jokes as he inched in, stammering occasionally because, fuck- Harry was just so tight- never taking his eyes off Harry's face, terrified that the grimace of pain would return. It didn't, but Louis kept his eyes glued to Harry's face as the giggles turned to gasps and then to moans (Louis still flushes with pride at the thought), and thank god he did because he still jerks off to the face Harry made when he came. 

And it just sort of became what they did. Stupid, giggly, fumbling, happy sex.

They don't do that any more. 

*

Louis doesn't remember exactly what set off the change. For a while he thinks it was when management told them about Eleanor, but no, that's not it because Harry rode him slowly that night, whispering puns about beards and pussycats. Because back then they thought it was funny, thought it was a joke.

It's not a joke any more. 

It stopped being a joke when Louis came home late one night, or maybe it was after he tweeted "bullshit," and before he'd even taken his coat off, Harry had slammed him against the wall and kissed him with such force Louis thought his teeth were going to cut through his lip. He let Harry kiss him like that, with a violence he'd never known his boy to display, until he felt hot tears that were not his own against his checks. 

"Haz-"

"Shut up."

And Harry was pushing him to the bedroom (Shit, when did Harry get this much bigger than him?), and striping them both so quickly it was almost painful, and Louis had a moment to wonder if they were fucking or fighting before Harry shoved him back on the bed, and climbed on top of him. Louis's brain took a while to catch up with his body, but he got there, and he remembers reaching for the condoms and lube, only to have Harry snatch the lube from his hands, and throw the condom back in the drawer. 

"No," he whispered, "Please Lou, I want to feel you. I have to feel you. I have to know-" His voice seemed to catch in his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

And Louis just lay back as Harry slicked him up, getting it now, getting how Harry needed this. Needed to call the shots, pretend he had control over this, over them, over their own lives. He understood why after Harry sunk down on him with a moan, his mouth open in an almost comic picture of relief, he grabbed Louis's hands away from his hips and pinned them over Louis's head. Louis didn't move his hands as Harry rode him harder and faster, he didn't move them when Harry let go of his wrists to rake his hands across Louis's chest, fucking Louis with a desperation neither of them had ever known. And then Harry's hands were back on Louis wrists, and his eyes were baring down on him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that Louis had never seen before, and fuck, it scared him. Before he had time to dwell on it, Harry was leaning down and whisper, "Come for me, Lou. Please. I need to feel more of you. I need to feel all of you. Inside me. Please." And Louis was gone. His mouth fell open a silent scream and he felt himself spill into Harry, who bucked his hips with even greater fervor and whispered a choked, "Yes." 

Louis thinks he may have blacked out for a minute because the next thing he remembers, Harry had rolled off him, but instead of snuggling against his side per their usual postcoital routine, he was perched on his knees between Louis legs- shit, when had he spread his legs, and fuck, Harry was still hard. 

"Shit, Haz, you didn't-" Louis started to sit up.

"Didn't want to," Harry pushed him back down. His eyes were still blazing in that slightly scary way. "Want to come inside you."

And Louis's pretty sure the noise he let out then wasn't human, and fuck, it didn't seem to matter that he had come twenty seconds ago, apparently all his blood was rushing south. 

"Can I, Lou? Please?" Harry asked, painfully innocent. Louis knew he was asking for so much more, that he was asking for things Louis wouldn't begin to know how to give him, and the thought made every part of him ache, so without even thinking about it, Louis practically moaned, "Yes."

It wasn't gentle or sweet. Louis knew that Harry wasn't concerned with hurting him because the world had already hurt them more than this ever could. But that was okay. Because Louis got this was about something new. It wasn't about nervous, naive first love. It was about them versus the world. It was about taking and marking and holding on to whatever they had left. 

"I love you, Lou," Harry whispered as he rocked into him, reaching down to wrap one hand around Louis's leaking cock, jerking him off in rhythm with his thrusts. "I love you so much. They can't have you. They can't. You're mine, you got it? No one gets you like I do. No one gets you like this." Louis's second orgasm was less powerful than his first, hitting him unexpectedly as Harry worked his hand up and down and whispered not-so-sweet nothings into his ear. And seconds later Harry was following him over the edge, letting out a stream of babbling obscenities that made even Louis blush. 

They stared at each other. The crazed look in Harry's eyes was gone, along with the tension in his body. He smiled. He was loose and goofy and Harry again. But something had shifted. Harry didn't pull out, and they fell asleep like that, without bothering to clean up. 

*

And that, whatever that was, became their new thing. As the charade went on longer and longer, getting more and more complicated, they laughed less and less. By the time management found a girl for Harry as well, they had all but lost fumbling kisses and secret giggles to bruised hips and choked out promises. Louis began to associate getting papped shopping with Eleanour with scratches down his back and an ache so bad he couldn't sit down the next day. Not that he reacted any differently; after management told Harry to start talking about a new crush during the press conference for their premiere because they were looking for a new girl for him, Louis dragged Harry into the nearest closet and pushed the taller boy down to his knees. Harry shoved Louis's pants down with a matching desperation, and when Louis bucked into his mouth, he pulled off and whispered, "Go ahead" in such a biting tone that Louis shivered. Harry's permission granted, he fucked into his mouth so wildly that Harry coughed as he stood up and rasped, "I think I think I'll let Niall do that talking in the next one." They laughed then, but it was biter, without humor. They didn't find much funny any more.

***

Now Louis is snuggled against Harry in the car leaving the interview, staring up at his boy who's looking straight ahead with such a lost, blank look that Louis's heart just aches. He nudges Harry's shoulder with his nose. 

"Hey, Haz."

"Yeah?" And as Harry looks down at him, Louis sees his face soften, even now. 

"We have a week off."

"So?"

"So? Think of all the new positions we could try in a week."

"I can imagine we have any left. And I think management wants you to spend the week with El." His words are soft, but pointed.

"Bully management."

"Lou-"

"Seriously. Fuck. Management."

"You'll never convince them."

"But if I do?"

"I would like nothing better than to spend a week locked in a room with you, Lou, you know that." Louis grins at that, amazed after all this time that this beautiful boy still wants him, "But you'll never convince them." The resigned look on Harry's face makes Louis want to punch something. 

"Watch me."

*

Louis convinces them. Well, convince is one word. Louis may be jokes and sass the majority of the time, but that only makes him more terrifying when he gets serious about something. He only has to make one shopping appearance with El, and he can have Harry all to himself. For a whole week. He can't remember the last time that happened. They haven't even fucked properly in, shit, how long's it been? 

Louis is practically bouncing when he tells Harry the news. 

"Guess what I did?" He quips in a sing song voice in Harry's ear.

"No, Lou, Liam will go mental if you ruined another one of his snapbacks-"

"No, what, no. Haz." Louis just beams, he can't even get the words out. "Haz."

"You didn't? Shit, Lou." And then Harry's arms are around him and he can feel his boy smiling into his neck, breathing him in with such relief. But they're not back yet, not completely.

*

Of course management has to go and ruin their first night. They lay out everything they expect from the boys in return for this, and lecture them in such a condescending tone that by the time they get in the car, Harry's eyes are leaking angry tears and Louis is shaking. Harry doesn't even sit next to him on the ride to the house they've rented. He stares out the window, hands clenched in angry fists.

"Not now, Louis," he snaps when Louis rubs his hand suggestively up Harry's thigh, "I just- I just need a minute." A minute turns into the entire car ride and by the time they reach the house Louis is so angry and horny he could punch something. 

They don't even fuck properly when they get to the house (furiously jerking each other off as soon as the door closes behind them does not count. They could do that in their dressing room. And have, much to a very disturbed Niall's chagrin.) Louis wants more, fuck, they didn't even take their shirts off, but Harry says, "I'm tired, Lou. Let's just go to bed."  
Harry falls asleep immediately, but Louis can't seem to get his mind to slow down. He knows he should be out like a light, hell, he just finished an eight week tour, but it's like his body has been moving so quickly for so long that it doesn't know how to slow down. He turns to look at Harry. His heart catches a little, and he smiles. He hasn't been allowed to look in such a long time, so he savors it. He looks and looks. He loves how relaxed Harry looks, how innocent and almost childlike. He looks like the boy Louis fell in love with three years ago. 

After a while Louis shifts his eyes away from Harry and tries to sleep. Harry's weight is comforting next to him, but it's too quiet. Sleeping on a tour bus can do that. Even in the hotels, Louis always feels like he can sense the other lives buzzing around them, even if he can't hear them. He misses the sound of Niall tapping out a beat against his bunk while his iPod lulls him to sleep, only to be replaced with his heavy, rumbling snores minutes later. Around this time he'll usually hear Liam trying to muffle his tears of homesickness, quickly followed by the sound of Zayn telling his mother or Perrie that he'll call them back, and before Louis can even peek his head out, Zayn's hopped out his bunk, bumping his fist against Louis's and muttering, "I've got this one," before clambering into bed with Liam. Louis breathes deeply. Thinking of snores and whispering boys, he falls asleep. 

*

"FUCK!"

Louis jolts awake. He's not in his bunk on the bus. He's not in his room in Doncaster. Right. He's in a house in L.A. with Harry. Harry... who is not laying next to him. Harry, who must be the source of the loud expletive that has just roused Louis. The clock reads 4:24 am.

The loud stream of curses continues as Louis drags himself out of bed, slipping on his boxers, and carefully pads downstairs. It seems that Harry has made his way down to the house's kitchen. Why Harry is cursing his head off in that particular room in the middle of the night Louis has no idea. Stranger things have happened. 

"Harry?" Louis asks cautiously as he walks into the kitchen. The curses have stopped. Harry's standing, butt naked, in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the floor. Okay, now Louis is freaked out. "Haz?" 

"It fell," Harry says, pointing to the spot he's staring at. Louis looks down. Two halves of a grapefruit are laying on the kitchen floor like little igloos. "I couldn't sleep and I was hungry and I came down here and it was so lovely because someone had stocked the kitchen with all sorts of fruit, but there was only this one grapefruit, and I thought, perfect, I can have half and then maybe Lou will want half in the morning- why are you smiling?"

A grin spreads across Louis's face while Harry speaks. This boy and his fucking fruit.

"It's not fucking funny, Lou," Harry says. "I wanted- I wanted this one nice thing. I wanted it and now I can't have it and-"

Harry stops speaking. Louis knows what's coming before Harry's eyes even began to shine. He strides across the room and pulls the taller boy into his arms before the tears start falling properly.

"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay," Louis whispers, as he strokes Harry's hair. He thinks about saying "It's only a grapefruit" but thought better of it. That would probably just make Harry more upset. 

"It's not fair, it's not fair," Harry repeats against Louis's shoulder. Louis marvels at the way the bigger boy managed to fold into him. 

Louis kisses his temple with a quiet, "I know."

*

The air is still thick with tension the next morning, but its settled somehow, like a peace has been reached. Harry leaves to go for a run first thing, jogging back almost as soon as he's shut the door and planting a kiss on Louis lips when he realizes he hadn't said a proper goodbye. 

"I'll probably be gone for a while, yeah? Want to be outside and all."

Louis responds by pulling him down for another kiss.

*

Louis wanders around the house aimlessly after Harry leaves. He flops down on the couch and watches some mindless television because, goddammit, its just so nice to have nothing to do. 

It's when his stomach starts to growl after the fifth episode of Big Brother in a row that he finally gets up and walks into the kitchen and that's when he sees it.

That fucking grapefruit still laying in the middle of the kitchen floor.

A brainwave shoots through Louis like a thunderbolt and he nearly fucking jumps in the air like a real-life Peter Pan. He grabs his wallet and his keys and rushes out the door so quickly that it's not until the car is ten minutes away from the house that he realizes he isn't wearing any shoes.

*

Louis is beyond giddy by the time Harry gets home. He jumps up as Harry heads for the bedroom, blocking his way.

"No. No, no. There's a surprise for you in there, but shower first. You're all smelly." Harry grins down at him. 

"I thought you liked my smell." He says, smiling cheekily.   
 "Haz, you're dripping on the carpet and you smell worse than our X-factor bunk. Shower. Now." Louis rocks back and forth on his heels, an impatient ball of energy. "I want to give you your surprise. Now go." Harry just smiles at him, so he fucking pushes Harry all the way to the bathroom (it's a struggle because Harry is too fucking gangly for his own good, not to mention he takes a great deal of pleasure in making things difficult for Louis, but Louis's rewarded with a bark of laughter for his troubles). They're getting there.

*

Louis can barely sit still on the bed. Jesus Christ, who takes this long in the shower? If Harry's jerking off he'll actually kill him, and he yells as much toward the bathroom as he steps out into the hall. 

Harry stumbles out of the bathroom, toweling his hair, another towel wrapped around and his waist, and Louis has to catch his breath for a moment because even after all this time it still fucking amazes him how gorgeous Harry is. How gorgeous Harry is like this, when only Louis gets to see him. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming"

"Not yet. But you will be."

"Lou, sometimes I swear to god you are thirteen years old."

"Pervert."

"Oh, fuck off," Harry whips the towel he was using for his hair at Louis, missing spectacularly. Louis runs away down the hall toward the bedroom, Harry giving chase behind him.

"You can't run from you me you- Oh." Harry's taunts cut off as he runs into the bedroom and finally lays eyes on Louis's surprise. 

Bowls of fruit are piled on either side of the bed. Bananas, strawberries, oranges, etc. Even a couple grapefruit.

"Lou-" Harry starts, confused. But then a smile spreads slowly across his face.

"You can have all the fruit you want, Haz."

Harry beams at him.

*

"Rasberry?" Harry asks.

"Good job," Louis says, crooking the finger he has buried deep inside Harry a little.

"Oh, fuck me," Harry moans, as his back arches slightly off the bed. 

"We'll get there, love. Be patient." 

Harry's blindfolded, propped up against a pile of pillows, looking as beautiful and flushed as Louis's ever seen him. Louis's perched between Harry's bent knees, one hand working Harry's ass open, the other reaching down into the bowl of fruit on the bed beside him. 

He places the next piece of fruit into Harry's waiting mouth. Harry chews, swallows, and cocks his head, considering. 

"Watermelon?"

"Very good, that's another finger." Louis slides another digit inside Harry, who gasps and writhes and tries to push down against them. "Patience, darling. You don't want to come before I've even got my cock in you, now do you?" Harry moans, but shakes his head, breathing heavily. "Good. Next piece." Louis scissors his fingers back and forth slowly, lazily. 

"Orange," Harry chokes out. Louis pulls one his fingers out. Harry whimpers at the loss. "What the hell, Lou. That was most definitely an orange."

"Clementine."

"Oh fuck off," Harry says, but he's laughing. Yes, Louis thinks, yes, this is what I want.

"I expected better of you Harold, you of all people should know the difference."

"Shut up and give me the next one."

"Bossy, aren't we?" Harry responds by bucking his hips.

"Grape."

"Good boy. Back to two" Harry groans appreciatively as Louis's second finger returns.

"Strawberry."

"Very clever, think you can handle three?" Harry nods so enthusiastically that he practically shakes the bed. "Okay, here we go." Louis slips a third finger inside Harry teasingly slowly. He bends all three fingers, brushing gently against Harry's sweet spot. Harry's whole body tense and arches.

"Fuckjesuscuntsbollocksholyshit-"

"Watch it, Haz, you almost kicked the fruit off."

"Fuck the fruit."

"I mean, I'm sure we could try that-"

"Shut up and give me the next one, you fool," Harry laughs.

"You're awfully bossy for someone who's blindfolded and begging for fruit, you know." Louis says, placing the next one in Harry's mouth. 

"Blueberry," Harry gasps, voice wrecked beyond belief. Louis's pretty sure their game won't last much longer, because pretty soon Harry's not going to be able to remember his name, let alone the names of his favorite foods. Louis's rock hard without even being touched, just from the sight of his boy like this. 

"Very good," Louis says, before sinking his mouth down over Harry's cock. 

"Fuck, Lou-" Harry practically screams, arching his back and bucking his hips up at the unexpected heat and warmth of Louis's mouth. Louis works his mouth up and down slowly, without desperation for once, pulling off to swirl his tongue around the tip, then tracing a line down the underside, all the while slowly moving his fingers inside Harry, working him open. Louis moves his mouth back over Harry's cock, taking him as far down his throat as he can manage. 

"Oh god, oh god Lou. I can't- I'm going to-" Harry comes suddenly, screaming and moaning, his arms taught, his legs quivering. This time he really does kick the fruit off the bed. Louis swallows Harry's load happily, then sits up, wiping his mouth and pulling his fingers out of Harry. Harry makes to take off his blindfold, but Louis stops his wrist.

"One more. Get this right, and I'll fuck you senseless." Harry laughs, but leaves the blindfold on. He readjusts himself against the pillows and mutters what something like, "As if you wouldn't anyway."

"Ready?" Louis asks. Harry nods, opening his mouth. Louis places the last piece in Harry's mouth. Harry bites down, and instantaneously makes a face. 

After he swallows he says, "Jesus christ, Lou, what the fuck was that?"

"A tomato."

"Oh, you fucker-" Harry rips the blindfold off and tackles Louis, pinning him to the bed so that Harry fits between his legs. "You still have to fuck me," Harry grinds his hips down. Louis moans, he's been hard for so long. He can feel Harry getting hard again, one of the many upsides to dating a nineteen-year-old. 

"Why?" Louis asks, "You got it wrong. I don't have to do anything."

"Because I want you to," Harry whispers against Louis neck and Louis shudders, "And you said I could have anything I want."

"I said you could have any fruit- fuck, Haz" Louis breaks off as Harry reaches a spit slicked hand down between them, and grips Louis perfectly. 

"But I really, really, really want you to," Harry mumbles, kissing a different part of Louis's neck between each "really." Louis can't keep this up anymore. He needs to be inside his boy like, yesterday. He flips them over, and Harry laughs triumphantly. 

He doesn't bother with a condom, they're both clean and monogamous, and he wants to mark Harry from the inside out. He slides in as slowly as he can manage, taking in all the glorious sounds Harry makes as he does so. Right before he bottoms out, he leans down next to Harry's ear and whispers, "Guess what I'm going to think of every time Liam orders that tomato salad thing he loves?"

Harry explodes with breathy giggles, and Louis thinks, there it is.


End file.
